Solitary Spectors
by Sunburned-Stickperson
Summary: Desmond returns home to the Farm where he was born to meet his father, who he hasn't seen in many years. However, not all is as "normal" as he wanted to hope.
1. Chapter 1

**Crap, man. Here I go, trying to multitask. Uh-oh...**

**Pt. 2, pg. 34**

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><p>Desmond stood at the entrance to the Farm nervously. Shaun was by his side, holding a small metal briefcase over his shoulder and his other hand occupied by Desmond's hand.<p>

"Come on, chin up. It can't be so bad."

"Dude, I ran away and then rejoined. Not by my choice."

"You saved their asses."

"And was the cause of an attack on them!"

"Desmond, don't be ridiculous."

"I gave up the life of an assassin to be a bartender. I'm a bartender again now."

Shaun chuckled. "Well then, mate, looks like you've got your heart in the right place and are happy as a lark. Can't think of what any parent wouldn't want that. Let's go, shall we?"

He moved forward and started dragging Desmond with him. He quickly straightened up and matched Shaun's fast pace.

"Fucker."

Shaun tittered. "Language, Miles."

He huffed and looked around. It had rebuilt since the attack. The street was practically empty. It was like going back to the days of the cowboys and ghost towns. The roads weren't paved, and the land surrounding the farm was arid and dusty. Several shops were in the center of the town around a large square with a fountain in the center. There was a grocery store, a general store, and several smaller weapons and armor shops.

As they walked down the street, they saw several people peeking out of their houses or watching them through their windows. Desmond shifted uncomfortably and moved closer to Shaun. He kept his eyes slightly lowered as they passed by the buildings.

"You look like a kicked puppy."

"I probably deserve it."

"Do you regret leaving?"

"No."

"Then don't feel bad."

He looked slightly upset but remained quiet. They walked to the end of the street and stopped at a nice, if not small, house. There was a garden in front of it and a small overhang for the front step. He stayed back a bit and looked out over the street again. When he thought about it, it was slightly smaller than before. It was entirely his fault. The person across the street had come out and was looking at him from their porch. She was a petite little black-haired woman with bright brown eyes. A small boy clung to her leg, watching him.

He offered a small smile and waved hesitantly as Shaun knocked. The boy tugged on the woman's pant leg and whispered something to her. She glanced at Desmond, then nodded at the child. The little boy lit up like a firework at whatever she said and ran inside. The prophet let his shoulders slump forward. He scratched his head as he heard the door open, but paid the voices no mind as he looked at the blue lines etched into his skin. They went under the tattoo on his arm, and perhaps it was the tattoo.

It was probably the lines, he concluded, that had appeared after "finding" Eve's DNA like subject sixteen had told him too. And while he was glad Shaun didn't mind them—he had found out how much his lover had enjoyed them their first night together after the ordeal—it still made him self-conscious in public, especially in a muscle tee and shorts. It was only amplified, by not only the fact that he was a worldwide hero, but also that he held such fame and popularity among everyone, everywhere. He couldn't go anywhere without being treated by a celebrity, and the fan mail was the worst—even worse than the hate mail.

"Desmond, come greet your father," he heard Shaun say, strained, and he turned around.

But all words died in his throat when he was who was standing there in the doorway. It was Ezio, or, at least, it looked like Ezio. Desmond's eyes grew wide, and he stumbled before reaching for Shaun's briefcase.

"Where are my medications, Shaun? I think I'm hallucinating again."

Shaun pulled the briefcase away. "You're not hallucinating."

He leaned heavily on Shaun's shoulder, staring at the man. "Are you sure he's—is he—certain I—"

Ezio smiled and swept Desmond into a hug. "Welcome home, my son."

Desmond slowly reached up and hugged him back, shocked into a stupor. "E-Ezio…"

"It's good to have you back. Come inside. There is much to know about you."

He was dragged into the small living room. It was a small house, with the kitchen to his right and the living room to the left at either end of the small front room. Ezio pulled him into the room and offered him a seat on a small couch. He jumped when he saw Christina smile at him on the couch.

"You must tell me what has happened since you left the Farm. You have grown so much. My God, I still remember when you were sixteen." The master assassin placed a hand on Desmond's cheek, and he blinked when his surroundings changed into Leonardo's studio. "You were so young. I can see the effects of time. They have been worn into you."

Desmond shook his head, trembling. "I… Shaun, I need my medications. Please. I need my medications."

"Medications?"

Shaun looked at him, worried, and opened up the briefcase. "Yes," he started in a business-like manner, "the thing we haven't released to the press is that Desmond suffers from extreme hallucinations at times. He sees everything from the city of Jerusalem to Cesare Borgia trying to kill him in bed."

Ezio's eyes grew wide.

"How do you not know that?" Shaun said as he popped open the pill bottles. "The master assassins have access to everything that goes on."

Ezio looked at the huge pills. He rose. "Let me get you some water."

He left and returned a few seconds later with a cup of water. He looked at his son sadly. "No, I was kept from everything that had to do with you when you were found." He sat down beside him. "They were afraid that I might do something irrational if I knew where you were."

"You must have a zillion children! I've lived through all your-your—"

His throat constricted. He couldn't say it.

"Conquests?" Shaun supplied as he handed him the pills. There were three giant pills, and Desmond took them all in one go.

Ezio's eyes grew wide again, and he looked at Desmond, pulling him into a tight hug. "Mio dio! I am so sorry, Desmond! You have seen everything?"

Desmond nodded in the embrace. "I've lived my father's entire sex life."

They both shuddered, and Shaun smirked.

"Actually, you're not the only one. I could always tell when you were done with a session like that. Your behaviors in bed always changed slightly."

Ezio looked at Shaun, his eyes narrowing. "You two are sleeping with each other?"

"Now, now, you have no room to speak, considering your passionate affair with Leonardo."

"This man is an asshole. I forbid you to date him. Find yourself a better man."

Desmond couldn't help but laugh. He pulled away and looked his father over once more before he shuddered. Ezio had raised a hand to run a thumb over the scar on his lips.

"Exactly like mine."

"I got it when a patron at the bar I use to work at got into a fight."

Ezio raised an eyebrow and leaned back, looking curious. "There is so very much I do not know about you. Tell me more. I am curious to learn."

The next several hours where filled with Desmond's story about how he made it without living at the Farm, getting kidnapped by Abstergo, and all the crap he had been through afterward. By the time it was done, he looked down at his hands, which were clasped tightly in his lap.

"I'm sorry about the attack here. I didn't believe you, and because of that, all this shit happened."

He felt a large hand on his shoulder and looked up to see a sad smile on his father's face. "Desmond, I only wish I could've been there for you. I am so sorry that it happened that way."

There was a knock at the door, and Ezio looked up. "Excuse me."

When he walked off, Desmond looked at Shaun, who had his brow furrowed.

"What? I thought you'd love meeting someone from his time period."

Shaun scowled. "How are the medications working?"

"Huh? Oh, well enough, I guess. I thought I saw something in the corner of my eye, but…" he trailed off and looked at his lover, who was studying him closely.

A little kid came running into the room, holding a pen and paper. He stopped when he saw Desmond, suddenly a little shy. Ezio came up behind the boy and bent down.

"Go on. He will not bite you."

Desmond raised an eyebrow, scratching unconsciously at the blue marks on his arms. "Yeah?"

The kid moved forward a pace before backing up a little bit. The young woman from across the street came in with a warm smile and shooed the kid forward.

"Go on, Kyle."

He shuffled his way in front of Desmond and held the pen and paper out. "?"

Desmond laughed and took it gently with one arm before scooping the kid up with his other and setting him in his lap. "I can do better than that."

He wrote on the paper, "This is my best friend," and drew an arrow pointing upward. "Now, do you have a camera?"

His mother stepped forward, taking one out of her pants' pocket. "Right here."

Desmond grinned and held the sign up so it was pointing toward the boy. "How about it?"

The boy looked ready to explode with glee. "Yeah!"

He felt the little boy's arms wrap around his neck and squeeze tightly as his mother snapped a photo. Desmond laughed and hugged him back. When the boy pulled back and looked up at him, he froze. Petruccio was where the kid had been. He shook his head and slapped himself in the forehead before the boy was back to normal.

"Are you okay, Mister Miles?"

"I'm fine, Petru—kiddo."

He caught Ezio's shocked glance.

"I'm fine, though."

The kid smiled. "Will you come play with us sometime at school?"

"If he's still here," Shaun said, giving Desmond a serious stare.

"Aren't you staying here forever?"

Desmond chuckled. "I might."

The kid bounced around, and the mother laughed. "Come on, Kyle, let's let him catch up with his father. You can see him tomorrow."

The child obeyed wordlessly and waved goodbye. Desmond saw him off and closed the door before resting an arm on it and putting his forehead down against it.

"Desmond."

"Yeah, Shaun. I know. And I did just take my medications. I promise."

Eventually, he pushed away from the door and walked over, plopping down on the couch. He sighed. Ezio was silent for a little bit.

"You even saw that, then."

"Yeah."

"Everything?"

"Down to your father's last look."

Ezio hung his head. "I am so sorry, Desmond. I am so terribly, terribly sorry."

"Save it. I did what had to be done. One life for the greater good, yeah?"

The master assassin sighed. "I suppose."

"I'm usually okay when I'm in public. All the technology and shit keeps me grounded."

Silence reigned for a little bit before Desmond's stomach growled. Ezio chuckled and rose. "There is no point in letting you go hungry. I will show you your room, and then make us a meal, yes?"

Desmond grinned. "Sounds wonderful."

The room they had was rather tiny, like the rest of the house, but if was comfortable. The bed was cozy, the blankets were soft, and the window had thick curtains on it. He flopped on the bed. Shaun sat down beside him, looking worried. He laced his fingers with Shaun's when his hand rested on his stomach.

"I love you, Desmond."

He smiled softly and drew him in for a kiss. It was gentle and chaste.

"I love you, too," he murmured before pulling away.

"You realize we may have to leave again if your medications stop working."

"I know."

Shaun stretched out over him. Desmond put his hands behind his head to make it easier to look at his lover. He could see worry etched into his features and moved one hand to lightly cup Shaun's cheek.

"I'll be fine."


	2. Chapter 2

They got back up for dinner when it was called, and Desmond found his way there as if he had walked the path a million times before. He saw Ezio standing there, wiping his hands off on a towel, the food all set out and ready. He grinned at his father.

"Looks good."

Ezio smiled softly at him as they sat. "I learned from your mother."

Desmond tilted his head as they dug in. Shaun was surprisingly quiet. "I meant to ask you earlier what happened to my mom."

Ezio fell silent. "She died in an attack from Abstergo."

Desmond looked away: he could feel tears welling. "I'm so sorry."

He looked when he felt Shaun's hand on his thigh. The once-prophet picked his hand up and kissed it, pressing it to his forehead.

"It's all my fault. If I hadn't run away…"

"Desmond, it wasn't your fault."

"How is it not? If I hadn't run away, they never would have known we existed!"

"You couldn't have known."

"It was before they found you," Ezio murmured quietly. "They had caught wind that you where here and didn't know you had run."

"What?" Desmond perked slightly.

"Afterward, I had never been happier that you had run. It saved your life. They would have killed you at that point."

Dinner was silent for a moment as they dug in. After a bit, Shaun wiped his mouth and set the napkin back in his lap, looking confused.

"Is everything okay, Shaun?"

"Is that rosemary?" he looked at the master assassin.

Ezio looked shocked. "How could you tell?"

"I may not be gourmet, but I do know my herbs. My mother loves cooking."

Desmond laughed. "I remember when we went to see her! She made us all kinds of things!"

Shaun smiled almost wistfully. "Yes, if I recall correctly, you went through an entire pan of her brownies in one sitting, didn't you?"

Desmond blushed. "Th-they were good!"

His lover laughed. "I know. You made that clear."

"You know, Shaun," Ezio began, "I don't know anything about you. What line do you come from?"

Shaun quirked an eyebrow. "Ah, yes, the blood of an assassin. I'm a first generation; I'm afraid."

Ezio looked slightly impressed. "Really? A rare case."

"Yeah," Desmond said drily, "wanted for his massive ego, sense of sarcasm, and his general asshat-ery."

Shaun scowled. "I'll have you know it was no such thing."

"Really?" Ezio said with a humored smirk.

"Actually, he hacked Abstergo while he was over here in America. I've seen him work. He's pretty awesome."

"You hacked Abstergo?"

"Yes, and then they tracked me because of a leak from my friend that trickled around, and I was caught. I escaped and was picked up by the Assassins' Order. My intellect and love of history probably helped as well."

"So, you're pompous as well as an asshole."

"Pretty much," Desmond said as he bit into the chicken before grinning like a goon at Shaun, who scowled back at him.

"Let's not forget that I'm the one who solved the Truth."

"I know," the prophet laughed again. "And you're also the one that nearly ripped my head off when I made my own Boston Tea Party."

"You flushed my Earl Grey down the toilet!" Shaun said, appalled. "And if I remember correctly, I'm not the one who gave you a two hour lecture on saving money and conserving resources."

Desmond winced. "Right. I remember that."

"But you learned your lesson about making your own Boston Tea Potty."

Ezio had a warm smile dancing on his lips. "Tell me about your past."

Shaun looked at him. "Pardon?"

"Your past."

"Ah, that. There's not too much worthwhile to know. I was born, lived a happy life as a child with my brother, had my own punk movement with my friends in my teens—"

"No fucking way," Desmond said. His jaw dropped. "You? Mister Stuffy Asshole? Punk movement?"

"Yes, Desmond. I wasn't always like this. I cleaned myself up before heading to Harvard here in America—"

"Still, you were in, like, the ripped jeans and anarchy and all that crap?"

Shaun sighed. "Yes, and I still have the remainders of my piercings—"

"No shit!" Desmond shouted, rising. "You're messing with me! I've got to see them!"

He watched the historian roll his eyes and gesture for him to come over. He showed him the faintest outline of a piercing scar on his eyebrow and two on his lower lip. Desmond was wide-eyed as he sat back down.

"And I had the tops of my ears pierced twice, and both of my earlobes." He gestured to the respective spots.

"I can't believe I missed that stage of your life," Desmond breathed. "I feel jipped."

Ezio frowned. "I'm glad you cleaned yourself up."

"I didn't have much of a choice," Shaun said. "And once I settled into myself, I felt at ease again."

Desmond was crushed. "I can't believe you used to dress like a badass, and now you dress like a pansy."

Shaun scowled but turned to Ezio. "Is there anything else you'd like to ask? I hacked Abstergo just after graduation and was kidnapped."

"What did you plan on becoming?"

"A software developer, and when I was older, a professor at a college somewhere."

"High aspirations."

"I planned on moving my family over here eventually."

"So you a family man?"

"If that's how you prefer to classify it."

"Did you want kids before you found out your sexuality preference?"

"I've always preferred men, and I still plan on adopting, whether or not Desmond and I last."

Ezio nodded slowly. Desmond winced. "I feel sorry for your kid."

Shaun gave him a smug smirk. "Then you'd better stick around to make sure you can raise him properly when I'm not looking, hm?"

Desmond grinned. "Challenge accepted."

"I look forward to it."

"What position do you hold now in the Order?"

"Head of Intelligence. I had to ask for several days off to plan this visit. Then I'll start working from my laptop."

"A good position."

"How don't you know this?" Desmond asked.

"I have fallen out of touch with the heads of the Order since they told me to give up on finding you."

Desmond was silent for a moment. "I don't get it: you have so many other kids…"

"But you are the only one I've raised."

He was shocked. "Seriously?"

"On my honor, Desmond. You mean the world to me."

Dinner passed in a relatively light-hearted mood, and Ezio seemed to warm up slightly to Shaun the more he heard about him. Desmond was having a grand old time, despite how weird it was having Ezio as his father—and having lived through the beginning of his life. It was well into night before they decided it was time for bed. Desmond hugged his father tightly and smiled.

"Night. See you in there, Shaun."

He felt Ezio watch him as he pulled out of the hug and headed to the bedroom. Once the door clicked, Ezio looked at Shaun, who was scowling.

"You, sir, are the sorriest excuse of a parent I have ever seen for letting him suffer so much."

Ezio looked away, back at Desmond's door, and covered his face with his hands.

"I know, Shaun. I should have done more to help him."


	3. Chapter 3

**Dulce Jesus, yo tengo un problema con "El Pit." Bleck.**

**Okay, I'm sorry for the repost. Thanks to a minor problem with fact, I took this down and researched it more thoroughly. Now it is back up, without a change. I'm sorry for spamming your emails.**

***For later in this chapter* However, allow me to say that electroshock therapy has never had a good name, and with the comprehensive studies coming out, I have firm belief in the good of the future of electroshock therapy. The term is used loosely, and I'm sorry if it appears to be offensive or disconcerting. It simply refers to the usage of electricity to reset the brain. **

**I wish to thank an anonymous reviewer, however, for pointing this out and making me research such unknown topics more thoroughly, and my friend, Dylan, for helping clarify a few details.  
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><p>Desmond was already in the bed when Shaun came back in. He smiled at the British man and settled down as he crawled in. The prophet wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, breathing deep.<p>

"How are you handling all of this?"

"Pretty good. Aside from the trip-up with the kid, things haven't been too bad."

Shaun turned to face him. "Are you sure?"

He smiled. "Yeah. They're still nothing compared to when I haven't taken them."

He fell asleep shortly after.

The next morning had him stumbling out the door, clutching his nose as if it were broken. He was cursing as he turned and fled from the house and shouted at some person who he ran into before pushing them out of the way. He slashed at a Templar goon as he staggered around, making his way to the center, yelling back at his pursuer. He cried out in pain when a gunshot pierced his lung, and he fell to his knees, gripping at the hole in his chest as he fought to stay awake. He watched the blood drip from his nose, large, fat drops to feed the hungry earth, and he briefly thought that he wasn't going to make it. He heard a familiar voice call to him, and he reached out, grabbing the nearest shirt as he whispered, "Leonardo," and passed out.

When he woke next, Shaun was hovering over him, looking considerably concerned, and he blinked at the feeling of the water being spread over his face. He gripped his head and leaned back, complaining to Shaun about his head and chest hurting.

"I'm not surprised, Desmond, but can you speak English?"

He blinked and looked around at the mass of faces. So they weren't in Rome.

"No, we're not. I need you to try to remember English. Not Italian."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Dove—W-Where we are?"

"Texas, Desmond. In the United States of America. Remember, Desmond?"

"D-Desm—She called me that in the room of the Apple."

"Yes, that's your name, Desmond Miles."

"Des-mond M-ile-s." The words were familiar, but they felt foreign, heavy and thick upon his tongue as if he were a child learning to read.

"Yes, that's your name."

He curled forward as things started to come back to him. "I feel like I've been shot."

"I do believe that's what you thought happened. I think you shouted that Cesare got you."

"I did?"

"Yes, now, take your medications. I've gotten permission to increase the distribution to three times every twenty-four hours."

He reached out and gripped onto Shaun's shirt lightly, still holding his head with one hand. "H-how… why?"

"I don't know, Desmond, but your medications aren't working as well."

He slowly remembered himself as he was forced to swallow the horse pills and rise. The small town was gathered, seemingly curious, as he looked around.

"He's not here."

"I told him to stay back in the house so it wouldn't make the Bleeding Effect worse."

Desmond leaned heavily on Shaun the entire way back to the house. When he staggered through the door, after Shaun had him lay on the couch, he could hear Shaun and Ezio talking in the kitchen as he closed his eyes.

"Is it okay to see him?"

"I would give him another ten minutes or so to let the medications begin working."

There was silence.

"I am sorry I did not step in sooner."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize too."

There was more silence—a longer silence.

"I know."

He heard Shaun come walking out.

"I've got you some breakfast. You need something in your belly, Desmond."

The only answer he dignified it with was a grunt. Shaun sighed, and he heard the plate get set lightly down on the table. Shortly after, he forced himself to sit up and eat. Following that, Ezio came out and sat down hesitantly across from him.

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. I'm cool now. I took my meds too early yesterday, and I didn't wake up to take more last night."

"Desmond, I am sorry you have to deal with this."

He smiled warmly at his father. "Neh, it's okay. I've gotten use to it. It's not that bad."

"You thought that Cesare had broken into a brothel and beat you up. You ran into the streets of 'Rome,' were shot by Borgia, and thought that Shaun was Leonardo. That is not bad?"

Desmond shrugged. "It's all how you look at it. I'd say I'm lucky. I recovered swiftly."

Ezio leaned forward. "But if I had stepped in and helped, you woul—"

"It's not your fault, Giova—" He stopped short, looking wide-eyed. "Shit. I'm so sorr—"

"It is not your fault. If I had done more…"

The silence that followed was pregnant and sad until Shaun came in and sat across from them.

"The assassins need me back tomorrow."

"Seriously? That's ridiculous!"

Shaun shrugged, and he could almost see the hurt in Ezio's eyes.

"They said they want to try electroshock therapy with you."

Desmond rose, furious. "No fucking way! I'm not gonna let them do that! I don't want to forget everything!"

"We're running out of options if you're going to be cured of the Bleeding Effect."

"I don't want to!"

"Desmond," Ezio whispered, the guilt apparent in his voice, "perhaps it is for the best."

"But!"

"Think of it this way, Desmond," Shaun began, "if you undergo treatment, you can rebuild a relationship with your father brand new."

He was floored. He had all ready rejected electroshock therapy. He still didn't want it. "Isn't there something else? What about the talk shows and crap where they want to know about it?"

Shaun raised an eyebrow. "I know that others are fascinated by it, but I don't give a flying rat's arse about what they want, and I know you don't enjoy suffering."

Desmond fell silent, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again and plopping down on the couch, covering his face with his hands.

"No, I just want them all to go away."

"And I know it will be hard, Desmond, starting over, but I have recordings and videos from after the ordeal. We'll set you up right."

The prophet was silent for several minutes.

"No more medications?"

"If it works, you're correct."

"No more hallucinations?"

"Correct."

"No more nightmares?"

"Correct."

He fell silent for a few more minutes. "I guess I can try."

Shaun nodded once. "I know it will be hard, but I think that it will pay off."

"Are you sure—"

"Technology has advanced a long way."

Desmond nodded once before rising. "I feel kinda sick. I think I'm gonna use the bathroom."

"Desmond…"

He turned and looked at his lover, who looked dually pained. Desmond offered a weak smile and even weaker laugh as he walked out of the room. When he was gone, Shaun hung his head.

"Does he really have to go through with this?" Ezio murmured.

There was the sound of someone retching in the hall bathroom, and Shaun let out a shaky breath. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Ezio. A few second later, he was crying into Ezio's shirt.

"I don't want him to do this, Ezio," he whispered. "He won't remember anything about us. Nothing. All our fond memories will just… disappear. Everything. He'll remember nothing about us."

Ezio drew him into a tight hug, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill. "If only I had stepped in—"

Shaun shoved him back, hands clenched tightly, ignoring the tears.

"Stepped in?" he screeched. "Stepped in? You useless bag of flesh! You had the Goddamn location of the Apple the entire time! You could've avoided all of this if you had just fucking told them! They wouldn't have been able to get in any way without his DNA! You bloody asshole! You didn't even consider him, did you?"

Ezio was in a defensive position, and his voice had a warning edge. "I didn't know what the Animus did!"

"Bollocks! You could've accessed that! I know you could have! If you had just reached out—"

"They barred me from everything that had to do with him!"

"Bullshit! You knew they found him, so why didn't you raise Hell? A real parent would have!"

"How dare you say that I'm not a real—"

"Even my mother searched for me for years after I was kidnapped! You just took it like a dog—"

He was cut off as Ezio's fist connected with his cheek. Shaun snarled and retaliated, and soon, the two were locked in a fistfight.

"I didn't know what to do!"

Shaun swung, but Ezio blocked him. He narrowly avoided the counterattack as he spat, "Neither did my mother, but she had the entire international police force out looking for me!"

He made a cheap shot at Ezio's knees and connected. The man fell heavily, and Shaun was on him like a pack of wolves.

"I don't have that luxury as an assassin, if you've forgotten!" He slugged the older man in the face.

"You've got an entire organization behind you!" Ezio kneed him in the gut.

"I don't have access—"

"Bloody tit! You could have gained access!" They ran into the coffee table and knocked off Desmond's dirtied breakfast plate. Shaun grunted when his spine hit the edge of the table, and he lashed out, biting the man's jaw, desperate to create some sort of pain. Ezio hissed and tried to shove him back, but Shaun blocked his hands.

"You could've just given us the Goddamn location!" Shaun shouted before trying to bite him again, but Ezio was prepared and slammed a hand into his face, slamming his head into the ground.

"I know!" A solid punch connected with Shaun's nose, and he landed a good blow to the ribs. "I fucking know, you insolent little brat!" Ezio's had his shirt in his fist and was using him as a punching bag. "You think I don't have nightmares now that I've know what I've done to my own son! You think I won't suffer worse than when I watched my family die? I inflicted all of this upon my own son!"

Shaun took a cheap shot and lunged for his eyes. He connected with one, and Ezio reeled back, giving him just enough time to throw the man off. The two were on their feet in an instant. Ezio was holding the eye that Shaun had gotten, and Shaun was popping his nose back into place. Both looked feral, snarling and growling at each other.

"Uh… guys?"

They turned to see Desmond wiping his mouth off, upset and a little queasy.

"I don't see why you two are fighting. What's done is done. Learn and move on." Desmond eyed them both closely. "And go clean up. You both look stupid."

"Move on?" Shaun seethed, his fists clenching. "That man," he pointed at Ezio, "has ruined your life, and you say just 'move on'?"

Desmond gave him a serious stare. "Yeah, if I held a grudge for every little thing that happened in my life, I'd never be able to move on."

Shaun looked furious.

"Yeah, sure, it sucks that I'm going crazy, and it sucks that I have to undergo electroshock therapy, but the way I see it is that I could have ended up like Subject Sixteen. I could have not been able to save the world. And you know what else? I still have my father. I still have my faith that you won't just give up on me when my memory is wiped. I still have a roof over my head and warm food on the table. And the best part, Shaun? I still have you. And I'll always have you. I'm sure of that. And that's why I know I can do the electroshock therapy. I don't want to, but I know you'll be there to help me through the entire thing."

Shaun looked floored. Desmond stood there, watching him. After a few seconds, he crossed the room and hugged his lover tightly.

"Thank you, Shaun."

It took him a while to recover and hug Desmond back, but when he did, the hug was tight and crushing. He swore he could hear Shaun's breath hitch. They cleaned up shortly after, and Desmond made sure the rest of the day was spent just recording. He used Shaun's laptop to video record him helping Ezio make lunch, he and Shaun cuddling on the couch, went and bought a small disposable camera and took pictures of everything. He did have one bad hallucination, where he thought Shaun was Leonardo, and Cesare had beaten him up, but it didn't last too long, and he was back to normal in under ten minutes.

Before evening came rolling in, he walked across the street and knocked on the door of the young boy. Shaun stood behind him protectively. The young woman answered the door, and he smiled.

"Is he here?"

"Kyle? I'm afraid not. School here lasts until dinner time."

Desmond frowned and scratched his head. "Oh."

She smiled warmly and placed a hand on his shoulder. "He was so excited about that picture."

"Um… About that picture…"

She blinked. "Is there something wrong?"

Desmond briefly explained to her what he was going to do, and she looked worried. She pursed her lips once he was done. He was staring at the ground, holding Shaun's hand tightly. Shaun had moved beside him and had taken his hand when he had started trembling, his voice wavering. She nodded.

"Why don't you go pick him up at school? I'm sure the other kids would love to take pictures with you. That is, if you want to. I'll send you a copy of mine. How does that sound?"

Desmond looked at her with a weak smile. "Thank you, ma'am."

She hugged him once. "Right, school should let out soon."

Desmond nodded and turned to Shaun. "Let's go get him."

He held Shaun's hand the entire way there, looking around at everything. Shaun looked grave as they walked along the dusty street. The general store owner asked him how he was doing, and he responded with a smile and a nod. They neared the tiny school, a simple wooden building, with maybe two or three rooms. With only a few kids, however, a big one wasn't necessary. He knocked on the door of the tiny place and pushed open the door a crack.

Inside there were maybe ten desks, with three of them empty. The kids in their seats looked bored. The teacher had stopped helping one of the older kids and looked the door. Desmond smiled weakly.

"Is Kyle here?"

Immediately, a small voice piped, "I'm here!"

He opened the door all the way and looked for him. When he saw the boy, he was all ready out of his seat and barreling toward him, and Desmond scooped him up and threw him in the air. The boy shrieked in glee as he was caught.

"Hey kiddo. Thought I'd drop by."

"I told you I met him!" he shouted at one of the older boys, who looked shocked.

"Your mom said I could come pick you up."

The little boy giggled. "We're not done with school yet."

Desmond looked at the teacher. "Sorry…"

She rose. "I… It's okay, Mr. Miles—"

"Please, just call me Desmond."

She nodded. "I suppose we can end for today. It is close to the end of the day."

He smiled warmly. "Thanks, I'm sorry for any inconvenience."

She smiled back. "There are none. All right, you're dismissed."

He spent the next hour bombarded by the small group of kids and answering questions. When he was finally done, he had Kyle in his arms and Shaun at his side.

"I'm so excited!"

"Well, I had to say good bye to my best friend."

"Goodbye?" Kyle looked horrified.

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Because I need to go see my doctor, who lives a long ways away."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not feeling too good, and he's in charge of my medicines."

"Why?"

"Because, uh…"

The boy looked expectant as they reached his house. His mother was on the porch, smiling.

"Did you have fun today?"

"Yeah!"

Desmond set the boy down.

"Will you come back?" he asked, looking at him.

Desmond offered a weak smile. "Yes, but I might not remember you, so I need you to make sure you remind me, okay?"

"Why won't you remember me? Do you have problems remembering things?"

The assassin ruffled the boy's hair. "I'll explain it when you're older."

The boy pouted. After one more giant hug, he snapped a shot of them together and walked back across the street, where Ezio had dinner waiting. The dinner was silent and unsettling as they thought about the future, and Desmond wasted the entire roll of film that night. When he retired, he pulled Shaun's laptop out and turned on the video camera. Shaun appeared by his side as he adjusted the screen.

"What are you doing?" Shaun whispered as if anything louder would cause reality to shatter into something worse.

"I'm leaving myself a note so I'll remember the important things."

"Like what?"

"Like this," he said, and he drew Shaun into the most passionate kiss he could muster, eventually pushing him down onto the bed.

Shaun laughed breathlessly and said, humored, "Like porn?"

"No," Desmond whispered as he pressed soft kisses along his jaw line. "Like the map of my lover's body."

He took his time, drawing every gasp and moan he could from Shaun, playing him like an instrument as he made love to him. His touches were gentle and his caresses light. And when they finished and Shaun was asleep, Desmond sat up in front of the video camera again. He stared into the camera before looking back at Shaun. After several moments, he looked down at his hands, which were clasped tightly together.

"Don't give up, all right? Trust me: even though you won't remember this, it's better than the way you had to live before. He promised he'd look after us, so, don't give up. Okay? For him. I think it's harder on him than it is on us. You love him. I know that you don't remember it, but you love him. I love him."

He stared at the camera again, sad. He wiped furiously at a tear that trickled down his cheek as he shut off the camera and turned off the computer. He nestled in beside Shaun and held him tightly, trembling. He didn't sleep well that night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, after a super hard, super long, super miserable battle with myself about this story, here is your next chapter.**

**Alert: the pages numbers I have given on many of my stories have increased by +2. D: Thanks, spambot.**

**Another alert: There are no apologies if anyone finds the derogatory racial nicknames used in this chapter offensive. They were not aimed at you, so please, remember that and chillax. It is the character using those words, not me.  
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><p>He didn't sleep well for many nights. They travelled to New York, where the assassins' headquarters were, where Abstergo once was. Ezio returned with them, and he went in before them. Shaun was sitting outside the meeting room with Desmond, waiting to meet with them, when he heard it.<p>

There was a plethora of cursing, and then, "I trusted you!"

There was a quiet murmuring.

"I adored you, you shit-eating camel-humper! You, the great eagle, the all-wise one, you are the lowest of the low. You inhuman son-of-a bitch."

There was the sound of scuffling, and Desmond was watching the door curiously. He didn't know who was on the end of his father's wrath, but he didn't remember Ezio cursing quite so much. Perhaps time had loosened his tongue.

"I trusted you, and you lied. You assured me he would be all right!"

There was more quiet murmuring.

"You lied, sand nigger. There is no honor in the Order anymore!"

There was a frightening growl followed by a loud crash. Voices began panicking behind the door as he listened to the sounds of the scuffle. It continued for several minutes, seeming to get louder and more violent the longer it went on.

"There is no honor in our Order! How dare you consider yourself a good leader!"

There was a dull, hollow thunk on the wall between him and the fight. Desmond jumped when he heard it and clasped Shaun's hand tightly. There was utter silence on the other side, then the quiet sound of someone crossing the room, and another dull slam against the wall.

"You are no better than a Templar, using us like that—lying to me like that. You are no longer fit to rule this Order."

Another loud crash, and the door opened to reveal Ezio standing there, wiping blood from his mouth with a look of betrayal on his face as he looked toward his son. He looked behind him and shook his head, walking over and pulling Desmond into an embrace.

"I am sorry for being so blind. I truly am a miserable parent."

Desmond returned the hug tightly. "It's not your fault—"

A figure came storming from the room, followed by a second one at a slower pace. Before they could start shouting, Ezio looked over his shoulder and cradled Desmond in his arms the best he could.

"When this is done, I am taking my son. I will not let him be a part of such a corrupt organization."

"Ezio, think rationally," the second figure, the one that had blood splotches growing on his uniform, said.

Ezio snarled. "I have been betrayed by the one man I thought I could trust above all else. I am leaving the Order, and so is he."

Desmond thought the voice of the injured man sounded familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

"I bought your stories like a dog. And I bet that is what you wanted, no better than your old teacher—Al Mulam?"

Desmond's head shot up.

The figure tensed. "Do not mention that old man."

Ezio snarled, pushing Desmond behind him. "I will mention who I like. The fact you used my blind following against me makes me liken you to him."

Both figures pulled their hoods down, and Desmond's eyes grew wide as he took in Altair's and Malik's faces. He winced as he felt the cloudiness of the bleeding effect stir in the back of his mind.

"I should have you killed for this."

Desmond stepped in front of Ezio. He had a defiant, arrogant air about him, and he put it out there that they were welcome to try to kill him. He didn't notice the confused looks on their faces as he pointed out that Altair was a look-alike, unworthy of claiming his title that he had earned. He didn't realize the mirror image fighting stance he had. He didn't notice he was speaking Arabic.

"Enough of this foolishness," Malik growled. "Stand down, boy."

He told Malik that he had no right give him a command when his rank was higher. Shaun stepped in front of him, placing his hand on Desmond's shoulders.

"Mate, this is the twenty-second century."

He rolled his eyes, giving him a gentle push to the side with a command to move, but the historian refused.

"Pet, you are Desmond Miles. Wake up."

Desmond scowled and told him to move. Shaun frowned, pushing his glasses up his nose and delivered a knee to his groin. He crumpled, swearing in Arabic as Shaun got him in the neck, knocking him unconscious. When he finally woke, he felt incredibly guilty.

"Ma-lik?"

He reached around, blindly feeling for his lover.

"No, mate, it's Shaun." He felt a hand slip into his and squeeze.

"That's what I said."

"No, you said 'Malik.'"

"I… did?"

He opened his eyes to see Ezio standing by his head, Shaun sitting next to him. He was in an infirmary on a comfortable little cot. Shaun lifted his hand and kissed it gently. "Yes, love, you did."

Desmond looked at his father, who brushed some of his hair from his forehead. He needed to get it cut. Ezio looked absolutely crushed.

"I'm so sorry, Desmond."

Desmond smiled softly. "It's cool."

There was a soft click from the other edge of the room. He glanced over at the door to see six hooded figures walking in. He vaguely remembered seeing them in a book somewhere.

"Who are they?" he asked, looking toward Shaun.

"Don't you recognize them? Their uniforms? They're the heads of the Order."

Desmond studied them closely.

"You've awaken, Desmond Miles."

He watched them closely as Ezio shifted closer to his head, placing a hand on his chest. "I will not let them touch you."

Desmond looked up at him, recognizing the stance Ezio held. It was second nature. He nodded once and looked back at the men.

"We have come to discuss your treatment."

He nodded once, slowly, as they moved to the end of the cot. Ezio let out a low growl.

"Quiet, assassin."

"Don't you dare speak to my dad like that," Desmond snapped.

"Quiet. You may not speak to us like that. Such intolerance will not be allowed."

Desmond sneered. "I don't care. It's not like I asked for this life. Shit, I even ran away from it."

Shaun gave him a disapproving look. "Hush up. They're offering to pay for your treatment. Don't piss them off yet."

He had Shaun and Ezio help him sit up.

"Now. Before you freak out, we all think you should know that electroshock therapy has come a long way since its beginnings. It's a safe, respectable treatment for a situation like yours. They won't fry your brain or anything. It will be well-controlled, minimal shocks to specific areas of the brain. It might not always work, but you will be safe."

Desmond scowled.

"This is not the older ages," another figure said. "Our technology has advanced greatly, and tasks like this are no longer as dangerous as they used to be."


	5. Chapter 5

He shifted back, frowning. "Do I have to?"

"You tried the Animus, didn't you?"

"Yeah, and now I see my mother and childhood friends walking through walls as well as carriages, Templars, and other assassins."

He felt Ezio stand at his back, placing his hands on his shoulders and squeezing lightly. He leaned into the touch. Ezio began running his fingers through his hair. Shaun rubbed a thumb against the back of his hand.

"You don't have to do this, Desmond, but I don't want to see you suffer," Shaun said.

Desmond remained silent. The imposing leaders of the Order stood there, watching him, and looked down to his lap. He chewed on the inside of his lip.

"And you're not sure it'll work?"

"We cannot be, but if your medications are failing you, and neither the Animus nor the psychiatrist helped, we are running out of options."

"May we be left alone for a moment?" Shaun said, adjusting his glasses. "And perhaps send in Lucy and Rebecca if they're around?"

"They are not. They have left on a mission. We will leave you."

Shaun nodded as they filed out. When they were gone, he looked at Desmond. "You don't have to do this."

He didn't look up from his lap. It wasn't until he found himself standing in a hospital gown, looking at the diagram of where the electricity would be applied, in the hippocampus and various parts of the frontal lobes, that it sunk in. He rubbed his chin with his hand and then fisted his hair in frustration, trying not to let fear get the better of him. He heard the door click open and turned to see Shaun and a nurse standing there.

"Ready?"

He wanted to punch her for her cheerfulness. He took Shaun's extended hand and followed them slowly, fear settling itself in the pit of his stomach.

He didn't remember much in the following weeks. It started out fine: he'd go in; they'd do their thing; he'd recover, and the whole cycle would start again. And as the treatments passed in feign hopefulness, he began remembering less and less, memories slipping like sand through his fingers (although he did remember hearing something about higher voltage, but he wasn't entirely sure what that meant).

There was a memory of a man with brown hair, a blonde woman, and a chick with black hair. He remembered his father, his mother. He remembered a room in white, and a red chair, but even those thoughts were hard to remember after several weeks of treatment.

He began to feel more relaxed—he remembered paranoia, but that feeling was soon lost, too. And he thought the people who watched him so closely were crazy because he was feeling fine. His father was supportive of him, which surprised him for some reason. The man with the brown hair, who looked so hurt, was by his side every step of the way. He was grateful.

Finally, he woke in the hospital bed with his mind still fuzzy and every bone in his body sore, and he looked around. His father was talking quietly with a nurse, who left soon after, and he smiled at his father when he turned around.

"Hey, dad."

The man looked surprised but sat down next to him and smiled softly as if he were hurt. "Desmond…"

"What's up? Why am I here?"

The brown haired man who seemed so familiar came in, holding two small cups of soup. He offered one to his father, and sat in a chair next to him.

"Hey, what's up?"

The man looked sad. "Are they done frying his brain, yet?"

Ezio nodded, and Desmond looked confused. His father took the better part of the next three hours to talk to him and explain everything that had happened in the empty parts of his memory. Desmond was really upset. He was being released soon, and they would monitor how well he was doing. The man with the brown hair was silent the entire time, and when Desmond found out that the man was actually his boyfriend, the man interrupted.

"Do you… Is there any feeling left for me? At all?"

Desmond blinked at him.

"Or was it just another part of the Bleeding?"

Desmond studied him closely. Any other time, he would've sworn up and down he was straight, but the man did, in fact, evoke some sort of emotion in him. He didn't really know what it was, since he was still achy, and he felt like it was trying to claw its way from the black hole of his memory.

With shaky hands, he reached out to touch the man's face, and the man leaned into the touch, covering his hand with one of his own. Wanting to test the odd feeling that was clawing at the back of his mind, he pulled the man close and pressed their lips together. It was pleasant to say the least. It felt familiar, and it made him sigh contentedly. He felt safe with this man.

As he pulled away, he felt something detach from his mind, as if it were being release, and it floated in front of his eyes.

"Shaun," he murmured, and the word vanished.

The man looked thoroughly shocked. "You remembered my name?"

Desmond smiled. "I guess so. I want you to stay around."

"Desmond, I wouldn't have it any other way."

Desmond grinned. "I'll get to know you all over again. Looks like you get a second chance, huh?"

Shaun laughed, and it made Desmond feel warm. He pulled Desmond into a hug. "It looks like we both do, love."

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><p><strong>Finally. It's done. That was the hardest story to write, ever. D:<strong>


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